


Quia Bonum Utrique est Venandi

by Bugbear4869



Series: How Jason Met Marinette [1]
Category: Batman - All Media Types, Miraculous Ladybug
Genre: Borrowed the idea from one of my favorite montages, But Not Much, F/M, I am also not sorry about that, I can actually SEE that, I just love this idea that Mari can act more like the chair guy, I'm Sorry, John Wick: Chapter 2 AU, LIKE EVER, Maybe a little sorry, Means Suiting Up for Good Hunting, The title is latin, This fic actually has nothing to do with the pairing, Well - Freeform, about not working on WWBTD, than do field work, that I'm not sorry
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-11-15
Updated: 2020-11-15
Packaged: 2021-03-10 02:00:32
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,502
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27566398
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Bugbear4869/pseuds/Bugbear4869
Summary: Marinette supplies a suit (and then some) for a certain-to-be-red-helmeted-somewhat-crazy hitman.Literally, that's it. That's the fic.I can SEE this happening.
Relationships: Marinette Dupain-Cheng | Ladybug & Jason Todd, Marinette Dupain-Cheng | Ladybug/Damian Wayne
Series: How Jason Met Marinette [1]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/2015509
Comments: 5
Kudos: 177





	Quia Bonum Utrique est Venandi

**Author's Note:**

> For clarification, no, this is not how Jason met Marinette in WWBTD. I just recently watched John Wick 2-which is one of if not THE best action film series I have ever seen-and the idea kinda stuck. The John Wick series is an Tarantino-level operatic ballet of death, and I LOVE it that way.

* * *

"..."

 _"Oh, not you_ too _, Demon Spawn. B already does the 'I-don't-ask-questions-but-I-like-to-intimidatingly-frown-the-answers-out-of-people shtick. It works for him as his routine standard, but PLEASE. When you do it, it's just annoying." Red Hood groused petulantly._

_"..." His frown creased even further._

_"Fine! Fine. For once, I'll willingly divulge information without our usual rigmarole, alright?" He couldn't tell with the helmet blocking Red Hood's face from view, but Robin was certain that his brother was not sneering at him, in spite of his acerbic tone. "Is that to your never-ceasing dissatisfaction?"_

_"Tt." Robin responded. He was becoming moreso impatient with his brother than usual. "Explain."_

_Red Hood sighed in exasperation. "Eh, have it your way then. Be that as it may, I met Pixie during an assignment a few years back..."_

\---

He walked into the tiny antique bookshop. It was situated on a street corner located in what he would define as the district's quaint demilitarized zone. This came as somewhat of a surprise, as the storefront seemed to be of high quality and good upkeep. As he slowed his stride to something a bit more lax, he breathed in the familiar scent of leather bindings and mixture of wood-pulp & glue. There were high-backed upholstered armchairs scattered in between the numerous shelves, some of which were book-ended with leafy potted plants. The Victorian lampshades put sparsely throughout the space were not lit in the early morning light, but they added to the aesthetic that Jason had always secretly adored. It almost made him reminisce the of Wayne Manor Library, as it had been one of his favorite rooms in the mansion. If he had not been there for a job, Jason would have definitely spent more time browsing the works of writing that he oh-so coveted. He actually considered coming back to shop for late-night reading material when the assignment was over.

A young lady sat behind an illustrious mahogany counter at the back end of the space. She seemed to be writing in what appeared to be a very large ledger of sorts. It took him a little off guard when she started to talk without looking up from the book.

"Bonjour, Monsieur Todd."

Jason frowned in trepidation. He had been told from a relatively reliable informant-which were _so_ hard to come by nowadays-that this was one of the finest dealers that had recently come into business in Gotham. 'Pixie' was rapidly making a prominent name for themselves as a weapons and armor supplier, as well as a powerful information broker. It had become a wild rumor that the dealer could rival that of the Batman in terms of keeping up with the goings-on of the criminal Underworld. He hadn't actually thought they would be _that_ good, but it seemed _'credit where credit was due'_.

\---

_"You cannot be serious Todd."_

_"I am dead-ass, Demon Spawn. Dead. Ass. At the time, I had only been using aliases within the network; considering how Bruce buried a lot of files on me after my death, she could never have known my last name without some serious digging on her part."_

_"Tt. Continue."_

\---

Shaking the slight paranoia from his thoughts of _'how in the-?'_ , he approached the counter.

"Is the...Sommelier in?" he hesitantly asked.

Even though he had been instructed to, asking for a professional wine-taster in an antique bookstore was weird as fuck to him. Granted, it was nowhere near as crazy as some of the things he had been exposed to in his short life-and his even shorter 'rebirth'-but it still struck him as bizarre.

She looked up from the ledger. Smirking faintly at him, she quirked her eyebrows in amusement. "I have never known myself not to be."

"Wait a-you?" With his ability to speak now gone, Jason was now officially confused. Between the location & shop, the code-phrases, and the strangely well-informed woman, he was a little thrown at this point. And his face was beginning to show that.

\---

_"Tt. So that is why you wear a helmet. Your poker face is constantly poor in construction."_

_"...Hmph."_

\---

Without a word, she then turned around from her spot and activated a mechanism on the bookshelf behind her. Jason couldn't see where it was located from his vantage point. It had turned the bookshelf into what looked like a door left ajar. Peering through the entryway, it appeared to lead into a seemingly larger room than the storefront. She then fully faced him again with the slight smirk still in place, slowly gesturing with her hand to enter.

In his shock, Jason speechlessly walked into the well-lit room that was filled with cabinets and drawers stacked high to the ceiling. At end of the room was a full-length mirror situated between two entryway into other spaces. Guiding Jason to the center of the opulent, yet sparsely decorated room, she stopped in front of him with her arms folded neatly in front of her.

"Good morning, Monsieur Todd," Her face broke into a more genuine smile. " I am known as Pixie. What can I do for you today?"

Before he could stop himself, he blurted out, "You don't strike me as a professional criminal."

"I know. That's what makes me so good at it." Her smile took on a sharper edge. "So I'll ask once again, what can I do for you today?"

"Well, um..." He paused. "If I'm getting the alcohol metaphor right...think I'd like to look at the selection?"

She huffed in amusement. " So then you'd like a tasting."

"I...guess?"

Pixie grinned as she gave a contemplative hmm. "Besoin d'un nouveau costume seriez-vous?"

Jason scrunched his eyebrows. "If I translated that accurately, yes I am."

"Anything else?"

He paused to think for a moment before answering. "Actually, do you have anything for contingencies?"

A singular brow rose up her forehead. "In what manner of speaking?"

"I suppose...location."

The subtle smirk that she wore before the conversation started came fix itself on Pixie's face again. "Well then, let us begin."

\---

"I am quite excited to show you something." Pixie led him to the left-side room off of the the main area. It was filled wall-to-wall with racks containing all sorts of weapons and tools of destruction. Going behind a display case of firearms and other weaponry decked-out to the nines, she made a show of her hands gesturing to everything.

"First, pick your poison."

"I--I don't even know where to start." Jason was grinning with glee now. "This is beautiful."

She laughed. It was a tinkling, sprite-like sound, that actually made her appear all the more fitting of her moniker. "With what I know of you Mr. Todd, you seem to have a fondness for the German varietals," she went over to one of the racks with several semiautomatic handguns. "But, I can wholeheartedly endorse the new breed of Austrians." Taking the firearms from their display, she walked back to her original spot to show off the guns. "The Glock-34, & 26."

Jason nodded in approval, and she set them down in front of him on a soft cloth situated on top of the display case. He picked up one of the beautiful pieces of craftsmanship for inspection.

"Recontoured grips, flared magwell for easier reload," Pixie's smirk became wider and significantly more smug as Jason tested the feel and reload of the gun. "And I know you'll appreciate the custom porting."

Jason set the work-of-art-that-was-hardware down in front of him, now searchingly looking around.

"Would you like anything else?" she asked.

"I need something...robust. Precise."

"Robust." She echoed, looking lost in thought. "Precise."

With a graceful spin, she took down one of the assault rifles situated behind her and handed it over to him.

"AR-15. 11.5-inch, compensated with an iron-bonded bolt carrier. Trijicon acupoint with one-sixth magnification." she rattled off the top of her head. 

This woman was speaking his language, and he was loving every moment of it.

Excitedly, he asked, "Could you recommend anything for the end of the night? He felt a manic grin start to grow onto his face. "Something big. Bold."

She matched his grin, eyes twinkling with mirth. Reaching from underneath the counter, she pulled out the metaphorical and literal big guns.

**\---**

_"That was terrible Todd."_

_"Fair."_

\---

"May I suggest the Benelli M4?" lifting the firearm out of her petite hands with a reverent fragility, Jason looked down at the device in adulation.

"Custom bolt carrier release and charging handle," She added. " And textured grips, should your hands get...wet."

It was a gorgeous sight to behold.

"An Italian _classic_."

Jason was drooling.

"Dessert?" He almost rasped in an unspoken question.

"Dessert." Pixie replied with a smile, seeming to understand what he asked. She then whipped out a closed, folding black box. When she opened the box, it winged out a set of fine knives that were organized in a rather aesthetically-organized display.

"The finest cutlery. All freshly stoned."

Jason picked up one of the knives in fascination. Setting it back into its place in the arrangement of the box, he was more than pleased with his selection.

Seeming to realize he was ready for the next stage, she asked, "Shall I have everything sent to your room at the Continental?"

Not even bothering to question how she knew where he was staying, he simply replied, "Yes. Thank you."

\---

Pixie led him back into the main room, where she guided him to stand in front of the mirror. Muttering to herself, she whizzed around the cabinets, pulling out excess bolts of dark fabric. After laying the material on a decently-sized table, she then whipped out a measuring tape. Flitting around him just as quickly as she did her caches, she took note of his measurements on a small notepad in her hand.

When Pixie nodded in satisfaction, she then stood shoulder-to-shoulder with Jason. Face devoid of its smile, she started asking questions in a rapid-fire manner. "Tell me, Mr. Todd. Is this a formal event, or a social affair?"

"Social."

"And is this for day, or for evening?"

"I actually need two: one for day and one for night."

"And what style?"

"Italian."

"Hmm. How many buttons?"

"Two."

"Trousers?"

"Tapered."

" Alright. How about the lining?"

"Lining?"

The smile returned. "Then your choice would be Tactical."

\---

_"Tactical?"_

_"Yes, Demon Spawn.Tactical."_

\---

"Silicon-carbide disks, ceramic matrices, accompanied laminate." She passed him the thin material. It already had numerous shells compacted into the fabric, but the bullets left no visible impact, let alone damage to the sample.

"Is that...?"

"Cutting-edge body armor," she finished his incomplete thought. "I just sew it between the fabric, and the lining."

"Does it really have...?"

"Zero penetration. However," she winced at her statement in a display of sympathy. "Quite painful, I'm afraid."

Jason's eyebrows rose to the top of his forehead. "I'm still impressed Pixie."

"Could you be willing to do a rush order?"

"I sure can. Would you also like these delivered to the Continental as well?"

"YES PLEASE!"

\---

Pixie led him into the room located opposite to the artillery distillery. Compared to the other spaces in the shop, it seemed rather barren save for a large shelf set against one wall, overflowing with scrolls. A light table was set in the middle of the room. A computer, printer, and fax machine sat unused in the adjacent corner. Jason walked up to the light table while she rapidly buzzed about grabbing different scrolls. When she was done gathering what she needed, she came back over to him.

"What is it?" she asked, observing the look of confusion on Jason's face.

"...I haven't even told you where I'll be going for the job."

She gave him a deadpan stare. "I apparently stand corrected on the idea that there are no such things as stupid questions."

"WHA-"

"Now, onto contingency planning." Pixie interrupted his barely-formed retort. "My favorite."

"Why, may I ask, is it your favorite, Pixie-Pop?"

"Pixie-Pop?" she frowned.

"You don't like that?"

"No, it's not that I don't like the nickname, its just surprising you came up with one."

"...I'm not sure if I should take that as an insult or not."

"It's not an insult, but onto what you were asking about favoritism, usually plans of yours-or _anyone's_ , really-seem get you killed in practice. _Of course_ I'm invested into planning how to prevent that eventuality from occurring. I find it a fun hobby to imagine how many things could go horribly wrong for people." Her smirk grew back as she answered his question.

Jason stared at her for a moment. 

"You know, you're not as menacing as people think you are." He didn't believe that statement even as the words left his mouth.

"You're right." Pixie's smile almost seemed to stretch beyond the contours of her face in her glee. The numerous lights of the room seemed to darken, adding to the ominous atmosphere. "I'm MUCH worse."

Jason swore a chill ran down his spine while simultaneously breaking out in both a hot flash and cold sweat.

\---

 _"I am_ telling _you Demon Spawn, that moment was the most terrifying thing I have ever experienced! I swear on my life!"_

_"...you're technically already dead."_

_"I hope you realize that didn't stick, but that's beside the point."_

\---

Pixie helped Jason pour over the original maps of the venues. Looking over the ruinous architecture, she gave emphasis to the tunnel passages located conveniently underneath the estate. 

"Here, you have the map of the building, and the catacombs underneath." She then pulled out recent schematics of the location for side-by-side comparison.

"This is the modern blueprint," she added. "As you can see, these marked entrances are made note of, but not in a way that indicates they lead anywhere."

Jason studied the prints. "Wow. Where did you even _find_ these?" he inquired.

"I can't tell you the exact process, that would take too long," she sighed. "However, I can tell you it was a shit-ton of work, and an even larger shit-ton of energy."

He nodded in solidarity. "Mood."

\---

They were back at the storefront counter again settling the bill. When that concluded, they exchanged final pleasantries before Jason took off for his other errands.

"Excellent. It has been a pleasure doing business with you."

"I hope I can come to you in future endeavors, Pixie-Pop."

"But of course! I also had fun with this, I do so rarely ever get clients with your level of enthusiasm."

"Awww, Pixie-Pop. Thank you."

Looking out the window, Jason could tell it was now mid-afternoon. Oh, how the time had flown while he had fun!

"Whelp, I gotta go. Have a good day!" He gave his salutations as he made his way to the door.

"Mr. Todd." He paused as he opened the front door.

She gave one last smile. "Do enjoy your party."

Nodding his head in acknowledgement, he walked out of his now-favorite-dealer's shop.

\---

_"And I've been one of her best patrons ever since."_

_"..."_

_"Well, in any case, we're visiting her tomorrow. Just be ready."_

_"Tt."_

**Author's Note:**

> ...Now that I think about it, I can also see this developing into an expanded universe, but I dunno. Let me know what you guys think, okay? Also remind me to work on my main projects *cough*WWBTD*cough* because I suck at remembering things.
> 
> OOOHHH! Now that I REALLY think about it, I could create an entire work COLLECTION on "How Jason Met Marinette!" I'll just never give you a canonical answer to that question in WWBTD! Should I do that and be mean? Or not? ALSO let me know what you think about that.  
> *(mutters)* I will be honest though, it would actually save me time if I decided to pull this stunt...but then again, that ALSO might backfire faster than a run down hyper-drive pushed beyond its function capacity.  
> Source material: (https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=jMFqIaoj3iA)


End file.
